The Interview

I am not aware whether fainting was as much the fashion among the fair
sex, in the days (or rather the nights) of which I have the honor to
hold forth, as at the present time; but I am inclined to think not,
from the simple fact that Leoline, though like John Bunyan, "grievously
troubled and tossed about in her mind," did nothing of the kind. For the
first few moments, she was altogether too stunned by the suddenness of
the shock to cry out or make the least resistance, and was conscious of
nothing but of being rapidly borne along in somebody's arms. When this
hazy view of things passed away, her new sensation was, the intensely
uncomfortable one of being on the verge of suffocation. She made one
frantic but futile effort to free herself and scream for help, but the
strong arms held her with most loving tightness, and her cry was drowned
in the hot atmosphere within the shawl, and never passed beyond it. Most
assuredly Leoline would have been smothered then and there, had their
journey been much longer; but, fortunately for her, it was only the few
yards between her house and the river. She knew she was then carried
down some steps, and she heard the dip of the oars in the water, and
then her bearer paused, and went through a short dialogue with somebody
else--with Count L'Estrange, she rather felt than knew, for nothing was
audible but a low murmur. The only word she could make out was a low,
emphatic "Remember!" in the count's voice, and then she knew she was in
a boat, and that it was shoved off, and moving down the rapid river. The
feeling of heat and suffocation was dreadful and as her abductor placed
her on some cushions, she made another desperate but feeble effort to
free herself from the smothering shawl, but a hand was laid lightly on
hers, and a voice interposed.